


the days i saw you

by aroceu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming of Age, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-27 21:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/pseuds/aroceu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you were always there</p>
            </blockquote>





	the days i saw you

you're not too sure about everything, so when the sorting hat tells you you'd be best in slytherin, you don't know if this is the right choice. but before you can say anything, the sorting hat yells out,  _SLYTHERIN!_  and you're walking off toward the slytherin table, head hanging. 

a boy with platinum blond hair and silver eyes waves at you as you sit down at the table. you ignore him. 

  


~

  


you see the way albus potter looks so dejected, looks so upset about being in slytherin. you know it isn't the best house: your great grandfather and grandfather and father have all been in slytherin and they've followed dark wizards, and you're determined to prove that your family is not all that bad, with yourself. there aren't any dark wizards in this day and age, and you wouldn't follow them anyways. 

you hadn't been too disappointed about being sorted into slytherin, and you don't want albus potter to feel the same way, never mind who he is. you try to cheer him up; you wave at him. he doesn't look at you. 

  


~

  


slytherin isn't that bad of a house, you realize—people-wise, anyways. they're as nice as your family, who have all been in gryffindor. so you suppose there aren't many differences. 

you're led to the slytherin common room after dinner and it's green and under the lake. it's rather pretty, though you suppose this is only the lake's effects. the boys' dormitory is the same, if not but a bit cosier. you look around for a proper bed, dying to get to sleep. 

you see the platinum blond boy again. his hair looks silver in the green light. he smiles a little and beckons you over to the bed nearest to him. you eye him warily, but pick a different bed instead. 

  


~

  


it's exactly as your family had described it to you—emerald, enchanting, beautiful. there's nothing too horrible about slytherin, you know, even if judging only on appearances. you've always liked the color green. you like albus potter's eyes. 

you pick a bed near the back and turn around to see albus potter looking around, taking all this in. you lift up your lips in some sort of half-smile and invite him over to the bed next to yours. perhaps he'll be your friend, you think. 

but perhaps not, as albus merely looks at you but places his things by a different four-poster bed. you shrug to yourself and ignore the twisting in your stomach. 

  


~

  


first year goes like the first year of any other first year, for you at least. you're on neville—professor longbottom's—good side, of course, and most of the other teachers like you enough, if not because of who your father had been, but because of your mother. they tell you that they've all had both of your parents—your father, a decent person, your mother, a decent student. you try to live up to both reputations. 

you do your best and make new friends and keep your relationships with your family and family's friends' kids—rose your best friend of course, and james even if he can be a bit of a idiot, and victoire likes you enough that she's willing to talk to you. you deem yourself content, by the end of first year, with slightly average marks in all your classes, and a life that you can live with for now. 

  


~

  


you're pretty sure that it's because of your father when his friends' kids try to make friends with you, but you smile and acknowledge them and talk to them occasionally, so you suppose you are friends with them as well. they like you and give you a nickname, scorp (because scorpius is a mouthful, apparently) and you answer to it, and, well, you like it. 

and you're smart, which is a good thing since you're in  _school_  of course. you're generally in a good mood for the most part, because all of the teachers like you and it's been ages since anyone's really cared about gryffindor/slytherin, good/bad death eater stuff. hey, as long as you're getting good grades and are being polite to everyone, it shouldn't matter, right? and you're sure by the end of your very first year of hogwarts, that this is the way it should be for everyone. 

  


~

  


second year starts after a small spat with your father during the summer, because he's insisting to you not to be too ambitious for the slytherin quidditch team because remember that time you fell off and broke your wrist? and you'd insisted that it's perfectly fine because there are injuries all the time in quidditch and your dad had gotten on the gryffindor team when he was a first year, and you're actually allowed to try out this year. dad had looked at you sternly and said  _albus_  and you stormed into your room and glared at your dad for the rest of the summer. 

so as soon as quidditch trials start, you go out to the pitch with your broomstick and wait for your name to be called, that  _potter, albus_. you try out for seeker, of course because you're small and nimble and fast and you're pretty sure that your father's blood and your mother's blood will make you a brilliant seeker. plus, you want to go against james during quidditch matches; he hadn't gotten in til third year. 

you see scorpius malfoy at the stands, and wonder why you're paying any attention to him. he is, after all, only scorpius malfoy. but scorpius malfoy smiles you and waves and even though you've barely exchanged a word with him all last year, some part of you can't help but smile and wave back. 

  


~

  


it's entirely your decision to try out for the quidditch team, though your father had encouraged you but none too harshly. you'd agreed, because you like quidditch and you like playing and hell, you'll admit it, you're even pretty good. 

you see albus potter there as well and you wave at him, just on instinct and because you've always liked albus potter, even though you've barely talked to him. albus potter is nice looking and sort of quiet for the most part, though you know it's only around strangers because you've seen him with his friends before and he laughs. so when you wave, you're surprised to see that he waves back and you feel incredibly, incredibly happy. 

you're trying out for the seeker position because it's your best part, but when albus potter gets the position—of course—you're okay with being a chaser. quidditch isn't that important to you, only as something to do as a hobby because it's fun and you're good at it, and you don't really mind much when grades are the things that matter more, really.

  


~

  


second year, for you, ends like your first year had, except ravenclaw wins the house cup this time (you'll be sure to congratulate victoire later.) and you're much more okay with being a slytherin now—you're sure it's even fitting, for you, and since you and your father are so much alike, you think it's a wonder how he hadn't been in slytherin as well. 

the summer is okay and you and your dad are on better speaking terms now—after all, it had been pretty weird last summer since you both are usually so close. you practice quidditch with james (he'd seethed when he'd found out you became seeker) and lily joins in too—she loves it and she's good at it and is planning on for going as a chaser next year. you're sort of nervous for going against both of your siblings in a match then, when lily makes it, but not really, because it'll all be in good fun anyways. 

rose and hugo come halfway through august, and then it's  _really_  good fun even though rose is awful and hugo is just jittery (except it's weird, because rose is a serious chudley canon's fan when hugo can't care any less.) you're rather glad neither of  _them_  plan on going for the quidditch team any time soon, because not only would you be facing your entire family when slytherin plays against gryffindor, but also because then it'd really be competition. 

you really love your family and all, but you're constantly surrounded by them, both in school and out and you wish that you had friends who weren't them or friends with them. 

  


~

  


when you come home for the summer holidays, your parents are waiting for you and tell you they'll take you to south england to meet some of the family. you smile but you're actually really not looking forward—you love your parents, but their families can be sort of boring. and stuffy. and proud. 

it's a surprise for you when you find yourself in front of your great-aunt's house, and then the door bursts open and you see your second cousin teddy standing in the doorway. he's your favorite relative, and you're always so amused when he changes his hair from brown to blue to pink with yellow polka dots. 

your grandmother is in the drawing room with great-aunt andromeda, and almost immediately mum and dad are being dragged into the room as well to get into a discussion about money and work and politics. you stay with teddy, and teddy tells you that he actually has to go meet his godfather later today, but would scorpius want to play some quidditch with him before he leaves and then go out and get some ice cream? 

you know teddy's just teasing you when he's treating you like a child, and you laugh and shove him (you're still shorter, though) and asks him why he isn't at work, and he just rolls his eyes and asks, what do you know about work? then he chases you outside and you play quidditch and do get ice cream indeed, and then teddy leaves and you watch him feeling slightly jealous, because you know teddy's godfather is harry potter and you resist the urge to ask to come with him. 

  


~

  


after the first week of third year, you decide to never, ever deny aunt hermione's advice again because divination is a horrid, pointless subject. actually, you decide to never ever deny aunt hermione's, uncle ron's  _and_  your own father's advice about divination—sure, sybill trelawney had played some sort of significant role when your parents had been in school, but now she's just getting old and keeps falling asleep and her room smells like old people and tea leaves. 

you're glad you're taking muggle studies, though, something neither of your parents had had a great interest in. you're a bit surprised to see scorpius malfoy there, but after a week of changing your seat around and sitting by people you don't really care about, you decide, why not and sit next to malfoy the following monday.\ 

malfoy looks surprised, but not in the what-are-you-doing-here-move-or-i'm-going-to-hex-you-in-a-second way that often passes uncle ron's and malfoy's dad whenever they see each other (which happens about twice a year, on king's cross.) you can see a smile flit across malfoy's face before it returns to an expression of utmost indifference, like he hasn't noticed you at all. but he has and you know it and he'd smiled, and you're sure that this is a good sign. 

  


~

  


being next to albus potter is different from watching albus potter. different in a good way, of course, but your skin sort of prickles and whenever he asks you a question during muggle studies—about today's homework, nothing more—you feel your cheeks sort of redden as you tell him the answer. potter's unsurprisingly good at muggle studies, and you're sure this is because of some rumor your heard that he has a great uncle or something who's a muggle. you're pretty good at muggle studies too, but that's just because you pay attention and you're hardworking and diligent. 

your other third year classes are care of magical creatures (and professor hagrid always gives you suspicious looks, he always had; you'd learned to get used to it in first year) and arinthmancy, the latter of which is rather pleasant though incredibly difficult. you also make friends with rose weasley in that class, but only because you know albus which gives you an incentive, and rose weasley is actually quite nice once you get used to the fact that she's fiercely competitive when it comes to grades. 

  


~

  


it's the beginning of fourth year when you start noticing some changes, and most of these changes are in your dormmates and your friends and you wonder,  _why won't that happen to me?_  rose is taller and she's filling out (you don't like to think about the mental images), everyone in your year is also growing taller and buying endless magical pastes to get rid of acne, and suddenly all the boys in your dormitory are talking about girls and who they'd like to snog and shag and you just don't get it, not really. 

the only other boy who doesn't talk about snogging or shagging or girls or anything is scorpius malfoy, and of course it's scorpius malfoy, why should you be surprised. malfoy's actually grown taller though, and his hair is a bit longer, and you have to admit that he's extremely good-looking and stare at him for a while because he's no longer pointy like he used to have been, but just rather handsome. 

malfoy sees you looking and he smiles and you sort of feel like a child, caught in the wrongdoing of an act. staring is rude and you probably seem creepy. you turn away, cheeks warm and wonder why you'd been staring in the first place. 

and you sort of wonder,  _why can't i be like that?_  except you don't want to be malfoy, it's just that suddenly you want to be near him, and you don't know why. 

  


~

  


potter's paying some extraordinary amount of attention to you this year, and you don't know why. first it's the looking, then the asking more about homework and schoolwork and subjects, and then the talking in the slytherin common room when you both have other, completely different friends to concern yourself with. 

but you don't really care that much; you're actually a bit happy about it, though you know not to let it show because it'll only make you weaker. you do smile and talk with and get along all right with albus potter, as you've never expected any less, and potter seems to like you as much as you've always liked him. 

_you're really good at quidditch_ , he tells you one day when you're both walking back from practice with the rest of the team, and you're pretty sure it's ludicrous how they've never talked, never considered quidditch with each other before this very moment. 

_you're really good too_ , you tell him, then chuckle.  _i actually tried out for seeker, but settled for chaser instead._  

potter frowns, and then he looks genuinely upset.  _sorry_ , he says to you. 

but you say,  _it's okay_  and  _you deserve it_  and when potter doesn't look convinced, you say,  _really!_  and smile, and hey look at that, he smiles back. 

  


~

  


you're extremely, extremely grateful you made friends with scorpius malfoy because when fifth year rolls around, there's the whole business with o.w.l.s. and grades and holy shit you don't know how to handle this much on your plate with exams in every class practically every day plus quidditch, plus, you know, friends and life and all that other stuff. 

scorpius seems amused when you complain about this to him, and you have no idea why until scorpius reminds you that he has the same exact concerns, probably even more because he wants to work somewhere high up in the ministry and you need insanely good grades for that (like aunt hermione.) you tell him that he should work with rose if he wants his grades to be that good, but he laughs and says he thinks he's good enough on his own, and besides he likes being around you more. 

he helps you with your schoolwork and you get by fifth year with minimal angst and no girls, not because you haven't really changed much over the summer yet, and not because you're not interested, but because scorpius is always there, and if you had a girl around, it just wouldn't feel  _right_. 

  


~

  


albus looks the same, and you're happy about this. you don't want albus to change. you want him to be the albus you know, you've always known since first year when he'd seen you at slytherin table and you waved at him and he ignored you. so fifth year, you decide, will be a good year. 

it is a good year of course, because it's the year that relies on the things you actually do in  _school_ , which you're good at (on top of a number of other things). and albus is hanging onto you more, sort of like a little puppy except albus is a cute puppy and you really don't care because albus isn't stupid, just occasionally lazy but perfectly competent at doing schoolwork. fifth year finds you both often in the library or by the lake or in the courtyard, going over notes from all your subjects from the past four years, studying for o.w.l.s. and doing perfectly, well,  _perfect_  on them when the time comes. and sure you're pretty sure this year's the last before albus will start having some changes and you'll miss them, but you've already changed yourself and albus seems used to them so you suppose you better get ready for his yourself. 

  


~

  


when o.w.l. results come at the end of july, your heart is racing rapidly inside your chest—and then it slows, because you have eleven and who cares about divination and history of magic anyways? your father tells you that he nearly got the same exact owls (though you also have muggle studies) and is proud of you because your grades are better, then ruffles your hair and offers you some bacon. 

you're growing this year, and you know it; maybe it's the magic in your blood, but you've grown nearly fourteen inches all summer. your mother says you're growing up and is proud of you and james is nearly your height, and lily says that you could almost look scary if it weren't for the fact that it's impossible for you to look scary no matter what you try. 

you smile about this because you like being different, and when you see scorpius at king's cross in september, you wave over at him. 

  


~

  


you don't recognize him at first. 

albus looks different—he's  _tall_ , for one, and all through last year you've had nearly six inches on him. for another, though his magic seems to scare both acne and facial hair way, you can see traces of maturity still on albus's face, and though he looks, well, fantastic, with his tallness and dark hair and green eyes, it's probably going to take you a bit to get used to this. 

you wave at him back; he gestures toward a compartment, as if saying,  _wanna go in?_ and you nod,  _sure_  and you sort of like this way you both are friends, and it's especially amusing to see the unnerved faces of the great harry potter and your father looking at you both because this is a first time sort of thing. 

halfway through the train ride your friends come in and then albus's friends pass by and you're forced to part with him because you're not the same as him, not really. still, the question in albus's eyes says,  _want to talk later?_  and you smile with another,  _sure_  and realize that even if the way albus looks has changed in the past couple of months, the way albus is certainly has not. 

  


~

  


girls, you realize, are stupid. 

first of all there are the girls who see you and giggle—and you don't really know if you're handsome or not, and you don't really care. you don't even know if these girls  _fancy_  you; girls are complicated sometimes, they just like having boys to stare at but not really like. second of all, there are the girls who always talk about hogsmeade with you, girls you've never talked to before or bothered giving a second glance, girls from hufflepuff and gryffindor primarily, the occasional ravenclaw and the rare slytherin (thank goodness that slytherin girls aren't too interested in you, because you wouldn't want to share a common room with them.) 

you complain about this to scorpius, who seems not sympathetic at all and completely amused. 

_i mean_ , you say,  _have you ever had this problem before?_  

_no_ , says scorpius, grinning down at his book that he's been staring at for the past half an hour. 

_weird_ , you tell him,  _you'd think some girls would have asked you out by now._  

_really?_  says scorpius, looking up.  _why?_  

you want to say that it's because scorpius is good-looking, because scorpius is nice, because scorpius is perfectly fanciable—but you feel this isn't really the thing a bloke says to his mate. so you just shrug and say,  _well, i mean, why not?_  

_it's because i show more interest in schoolwork, albus, whereas you're completely approachable._  scorpius grins.  _i look like i have the personality of a toothpick, and you don't._  

_you don't have the personality of a toothpick!_  you say indignantly. 

scorpius laughs, a bright laugh that sort of sounds like the clinking of wine glasses together.  _thanks, albus_ , he says. 

  


~

  


you understand a thing or two about hormones, and what you understand is that you like both boys and girls. 

it doesn't take you long to figure out, of course, because even while you're not the type to look at skins (shame to the malfoy name, your father had told you when you were old enough to understand what they were), you are the type to go to sleep and have dreams and fantasies and other such things that you never talk about with everyone else, yet know that everyone secretly has the same experiences. 

you sort of want to ask albus if he has the same experiences as you, but no, not really you don't. you pointedly avoid the subject of anything that has to do with hormones around albus, other than the constant conversation about albus being asked out on a near weekly basis and albus rejecting them twice as routinely. 

_why don't you say yes?_  you ask albus curiously one day, when you're both in the boys' dormitory. no one here is up yet, which you never understand—it's a perfectly good place to work on schoolwork. 

albus snorts and rolls his eyes.  _why would i say yes to a girl i'm not even interested in?_ he says. then he rolls over onto his bed and sighs.  _i'm not even interested in any girl, anyways_ , he mumbles to himself. 

you look over at him curiously, and before you know it,  _have you ever thought that you were bent?_  

there's a silence from albus. you look up from your parchment to see that albus is staring up at the canopy, eyebrows furrowed in deep thinking and concentration. you make it best to seem like you're not watching him, waiting for an answer. 

finally, albus says,  _i don't know, really. never really thought about it. i just_ , and he shrugs,  _don't really care._  

you want to ask him how he doesn't really care, because sometimes you just have that urge when you want to get up and snog the first person in sight (you don't, of course, mostly because anyone who's ever in sight is either a stranger or a friend, and you can't right out snog either one of them). but you suppose it's just an albus-thing, and it's these sort of albus-things that makes you like him even more. 

so you say,  _okay_ , and wonder who albus will give his first kiss to. 

  


~

  


the pattern of life is exceedingly repititive. but not really, because all of a sudden you're a seventh year and it's going to be your last year, your  _very last year_  and you can remember the day you first stepped into the great hall. you can remember walking under the sorting hat, dreading the call of,  _SLYTHERIN!_  and then going over to your house table. you can remember scorpius malfoy waving at you, and you not waving back. and you'd rather not remember this second half. 

quidditch, perhaps, is what you'll miss most of all after school, and you tell scorpius this when you're both the last to enter the changing rooms after a quidditch practice. scorpius laughs at you—he's always been laughing at you—and tells you to stop thinking about the future and the past, it's completely pointless. 

you frown at him and say,  _i can't help it, this is our last year here_ , and hopes he understands. 

he does, of course, but he pretends he doesn't because that's just what scorpius does. he says,  _albus, you are a pathetic soul_ , and starts taking his quidditch robes off right in front of you, before going into the showers. 

you stare at him for a moment: you can see his neck, his collarbone, some of his belly and a shimmer of gold skin. you're still staring when scorpius is out of his green robes and is wearing nothing but his boxers, and he looks at you and asks,  _what?_  

_oh_ , you say, and then,  _nothing_  and smile at him, and wonder why your eyes fall down to his lips when he smiles back. 

  


~

  


seventh year passes by remarkably fast for you. you wish it would last longer. you're all set for your job and your career and whatever, but—still, it's the end of seventh year and you won't be at hogwarts anymore. 

you'll certainly miss this place. 

you and albus are planning to move in together—what with the discussions that had grown this year, discussions that led to small arguments and then reconciliations and first kisses—despite both your parents' arguments. you know that you're both mature enough to handle each other, and even if you and albus aren't really the way most people are, aren't the type of people who would really work well together, you just  _do_ and you like it, you'll like it a lot. and for one thing, it's not something you'll miss once you step foot out of hogwarts. 

it's the last day and the leaving feast and so many things are happening at once, and you wonder when the next time you come here will be. if you do ever come back. you step into the great hall, take a deep breath, and tell yourself to enjoy it while you can. 

you walk over to the slytherin table, trying to remember, reminisce on all the things that had happened in this great hall, from receiving owls to small food fights to playful staring contests with friends from other houses. you smile a bit to yourself, then scan your eyes across the slytherin table, searching for a place to sit. 

albus catches your eye immediately and he grins, green eyes sparkling. he waves over at you, an empty seat beside him. 

you grin and wave back.


End file.
